


Email My Heart

by cazmalfoy



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Correspondence, E-mail, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-17
Updated: 2016-04-17
Packaged: 2018-06-02 20:07:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 10,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6580462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cazmalfoy/pseuds/cazmalfoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack and Ianto experience the up and downs of a long distance relationship when Ianto is sent to Torchwood House for three months.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was co-written by myself and Sparking-Off in 2009, and is set out in email format.
> 
> Contains references to season 1 episodes as well as To The Last Man and Fragments.

To: [jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk](mailto:jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk)  
From: [ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk](mailto:ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk)  
Subject: You're an evil man for sending me up here. 

Dear Jack,

Three months was a conservative estimate. It's going to take a lot longer than that to sort out the archives here. I thought Torchwood House had a permanent archivist? Why in the name of all that's holy did anyone let it get into this state?

Don't give me that innocent look. You must have known how bad it was up here. The only benefit is that I don't have to put up with Owen demanding coffee every five minutes. Oh, and there's significantly less harassment, obviously. It does make work easier when I'm not ambushed every time I turn a corner. 

It's not so bad. Quiet, and I suspect I'll get a bit lonely – my nearest neighbour is three miles away – but there's some really interesting artefacts and records here. Photographic records of all the Torchwood branches, as well. I never imagined you with sideburns, Jack. They didn't suit you.

 Please remember to feed Myfanwy, and give my best to everyone.

Ianto

~

To: [ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk](mailto:ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk)  
From: [jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk](mailto:jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk)  
Subject: Re: You're an evil man for sending me up here.

  
Ianto, 

I’m wounded that you’d think I’d send you up there, knowing full well that those archives hadn’t been touched by a competent employee for who-knows-how-long.

Are you sure three months isn’t a little on the over excessive side though? They can’t be that bad, surely.

Don’t worry, none of the team have touched your coffee machine; Tosh won’t let us. I think she agrees that we (Owen, Gwen and I) will break it beyond repair, or blow the Hub up with it somehow. I think she’s overreacting.

At least you have Internet access; you won’t be totally on your own. The rest of us will be a mouse click away if you want us.

Oh god. I thought I’d removed all the pictures of me from Torchwood’s records. Where did you find that?

The sideburns were not my best idea, I’ll admit. It was the fashion and, despite how much I stick out now, I thought I’d at least  _try_ to blend in with the locals at the time. You see why I don’t bother that much now.

I’m insulted that you think I need to be reminded to feed Myfanwy. How could I forget to feed a dinosaur that tries to eat me during meal times?

The rest of the team give you their love (Owen says ‘When are you coming back? I’m sick of drinking instant shit!’).

Jack

P.S. Out of curiosity, if you were pterodactyl food, where would you be?


	2. Chapter 2

To: [jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk](mailto:jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk)  
From: [ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk](mailto:ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk)  
Subject: Don't even think about playing innocent. I know better.

 Jack,  
  
On the subject of Myfanwy I have two things to say. Firstly, her food is where it has always been and you should know that. Secondly, she wouldn't try to eat you if you had better table manners and therefore refrained from getting sauce all over yourself. 

As for the coffee machine, would this be a good moment to mention the self-destruct I installed in case of misuse?

Yes, the archives here are really that bad. There is a certain amount of order, but it looks as though the last time anyone employed here bothered to do their job was in 1932, although I may be being generous. Certainly there is at least some semblance of coherent archiving before then. 

Incidentally, I've found some more photographs in those early archives. Have I mentioned I love a man in uniform? 

Please attempt to remember that the SUV is due for its service on Wednesday afternoon. Also perhaps you can tell me why Colonel Mace called this morning in a rage because you seem incapable of speaking to UNIT without being insulting? I did tell him that I'm currently away from Cardiff, but he didn't seem to think it matters.

 I refuse to believe Owen sends his love. And if he's brought instant into the Hub, you should feel free to shoot him.

 Ianto

~

 To: [ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk](mailto:ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk)  
From: [jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk](mailto:jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk)  
Subject: I’m not playing. I really am innocent

 Ianto,

My table manners are  _not_ that bad, thank you very much. It’s not my fault food in this century is so damn messy (even if it does tastes very nice). 

 I found her food. Why are there half a dozen tins of cat food and a box of dog biscuits in that cupboard?

 Self-destruct? Erm… I’ll keep everyone away from the machine, I promise.

 I’ve got to admit, I understand how the Archives have gotten into such a mess (if they really are as bad as you say – I’m still not sure you aren’t exaggerating). It’s so much easier to place something in a drawer and hire someone to organise them for you later.

 You’ve found my World War I pictures? I wondered where they were. Bring them home with you and I’ll show you my others. If you want, I could even show you my uniforms.

 Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten about the SUV. I made a note of it and everything. It’s right here, attached to the bottom of my monitor. 

 Colonel Mace is an ignorant twat who will not accept that I know how to do his job better than he does. He needs to get his head out of his… Sorry you were on the receiving end of his temper tantrum. I can call him back and insult him again for bothering you while you’re not working in Cardiff, if you want?

 Okay, maybe Owen sending you his love was a bit of an exaggeration. I won’t tell you exactly what he said, because… well, I can’t remember most of it, but there were a lot of curse words in there. You can watch the CCTV when you get back and hear for yourself.

 Are you any closer to being finished?

 Missing you,

 Jack

 P.S. Tosh told me to tell you, ‘The pink one’. What pink one? As your boss I order you to tell me.


	3. Chapter 3

To: jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk  
From: jones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk  
Subject: If you're innocent, I'm a virgin.  
  
Jack,  
  
If you call Colonel Mace, I'll send Owen the photographs of you with sideburns. And you know I will. We need to get on with UNIT, Torchwood simply isn't a large enough organisation to do without them. I know your feelings on the matter, but Colonel Mace is good at what he does.  
  
And those photographs are staying exactly where they belong – here, in the archives. Behave, or I'll bring back one of the riding crops I've found filed among the records from Torchwood Four.   
  
So far I've mostly been working through the personnel records. If you can say nothing else for Torchwood, they do keep good records. Photographic evidence right from the beginning, and detailed reports on every incident, artefact and alien encounter. Some of it is enough to make you sick.   
  
Nothing changes, does it?  
  
Ianto  
  
P.S. None of your business.   
  
  
~  
  
To: ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk  
From: jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk  
Subject: I didn’t know virginity grew back  
  
Ianto,  
  
Oh, that is just evil. You sure know how to play dirty, Ianto Jones. It’s kinda hot.  
  
Those pictures are of me. Technically they’re mine. I have a right to do what I want with them.   
  
Riding crop? You promise?  
  
Some of the things that Torchwood used to do when I was recruited were just… Words can’t describe how sick I felt sometimes. I used to wonder if I should change my mind about waiting for the Doctor; some days I just wanted to get away from this place and their principles.   
  
I suppose some good came out of what Alex did. I finally got the chance to change the way Torchwood did things.  
  
Got to go, Rift alarm.  
  
Jack  
  
P.S. Your friend Ethel brought you a fruit basket today. Should I be worried?


	4. Chapter 4

To: jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk  
From: ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk  
Subject: Early reports from Torchwood Cardiff  
  
Jack,  
  
I've come across some rather disturbing reports from the early days of Torchwood Cardiff. They contain some...details that I suspect you would rather disappeared from memory. If you would like, I will destroy them. The reports are signed by Emily Holroyd.   
  
I've also found some information about the Doctor that you may be interested in, or perhaps not following your recent excursion with him?  
  
I hope you didn't scare Ethel. She's a rare friend.  
  
Ianto  
  
  
~  
  
To: ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk  
From: jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk  
Subject: Re: Early reports from Torchwood Cardiff  
  
Ianto,  
  
Yes please. Destroy every single report from her you find. I think I know what they’re about. The things she did… I don’t want anyone else knowing about them. Thank you.  
  
Do you think it would be a good idea for other Torchwood employees to get their hands on information about the Doctor? I think a lot of people still think like Yvonne; I doubt it would be safe for them to get their hands on that kind of data.  
  
Bring the data back with you and we can decide what to keep and what to burn. Over Chinese food and wine?  
  
Jack


	5. Chapter 5

To: jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk  
From: ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk  
Subject: There are other food groups than Chinese, you know.  
  
Jack,  
  
Speaking on behalf of Torchwood Three, I think I can say that we know as much about the Doctor as we need to, thank you. As for 'other' Torchwood employees, there's only Archie in Glasgow. Torchwood Four are still missing, and as you're aware I'm the only member of Torchwood One to have survived without psychological damage. Although the files on the Doctor should be common access, I hardly think you need publicise them.   
  
I've destroyed all copies of those reports as you requested. But Jack...how could you stay with Torchwood after everything she did? I know you were waiting for the Doctor, but surely there was something else you could have done?   
  
A date would be lovely, but not Chinese and  _not_  in the Hub. You can take me out for once.  
  
But I should mention that there's at least another two months' worth of work to be done up here.  
  
Ianto  
  
~  
  
To: ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk  
From: jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk  
Subject: Trying something else might not kill me, but why risk it?  
  
Ianto,  
  
What else was I supposed to do? I was left alone in a time and place I didn’t belong with no way of getting home. Waiting for the Doctor to return was the only thing that kept me sane sometimes; even though I hated him more often than not.  
  
I know I could have left Torchwood, but the longer I stayed here, the more I became part of the team and the more Torchwood became part of me. I thought about leaving; about running out of that door so fast you couldn’t see me for dust. But every time I decided I was going to leave, I’d get killed and be reminded why I was even here in the first place. I didn’t have a choice, I wanted –  _needed_  – to know what was wrong with me.  
  
Before I arrived here I’d been running for far too long; from the Agency and various enemies I’d managed to make since. Being part of Torchwood gave me a home I didn’t have to run from. Besides, I knew I’d outlive Alice; she had to die eventually. I hoped that if I stayed around long enough I could change the way Torchwood looked at anything that wasn’t human or ordinary.  
  
Alice might have been a twisted cow (and I know that’s putting it mildly), but I had other things – other people - to focus on to take my mind off of what she did.  
  
Like I said, being here – not just at Torchwood, but on this planet – gave me meaning again. I’ve seen so many different things and known so many wonderful people that the good stuff outweighed the bad. It still does.  
  
And I still wouldn’t change that for the world.  
  
Don’t worry about me and what she did to me. I’m fine. I bounced back; I always do.  
  
Jack  
  
P.S. You’re the best archivist I know, do whatever you think is best with the information on the Doctor. I trust you.


	6. Chapter 6

To: jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk  
From: ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk  
Subject: read the bloody subtext you idiot  
  
Jack,  
  
Sometimes I want to bloody kill you. You spent so long waiting for that man – alien, whatever – and you tied yourself to Torchwood and for what? They tortured you and turned you into their paid assassin and you'r so much better than that.   
  
I mean, what has torchwood ever done for you? We betray you and we shoot you and why the hell do you keep coming back?  
  
And look, you've turned me into a drunk. Or maybe it's the loneliness. Seems like it's what a person should do up here, drink...whatever it is I'm on to. It started off as wine. Lovely vintage from about fifty years before I was born. Bet you've had it. Probably had it when it was bottled.   
  
I miss you, and I shouldn't have to be drunk to say that but apparentyl I can't say it sober. I miss you and I hate that I'm the only person who can sort out these archives and I hate that you won't leave the Rift for a weekend to visit and  
  
I hate that it's been a year since Canary Wharf but everyone's bloody forgotten about it. He was there you know. Your bloody Doctor. I didnt' see him, I was barely worth noticing, but he was there.   
  
And you dn't bloody bounce. I've never seen you bounce. Except on a mattress sometimes. Not yours, the thing on your bunk doesnt' merit thename.   
  
Now if you'll excuse me i'm going to dig around for something else to drikn.  
  
Ianto  
  
  
~  
  
To: ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk  
From: jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk  
Subject: Do you want a greasy fry-up?  
  
Ianto,  
  
How bad was your hangover this morning? I haven’t seen – okay, read – you that drunk since… Well not for a long time.   
  
Torchwood gave me you and damn it if I sound like a sap. In my eyes that’s more than worth all the crap I have had to deal with in the past. I know I’m better than what they made me, but you brought out another side of me; a side I thought had died a long time ago.  
  
I miss you too, Ianto. I thought you would know that without me seeing it outright; you’re always so good at noticing the things I don’t say. But since I was wrong, I’ll say it again. I miss you. So much. I miss going to bed and sleeping; because when I’m with you I do sleep. I miss waking up in the middle of the night and watching you sleep for a while. I miss your coffee. I know you might think I like the coffee more than you, but coffee goes hand in hand with you, Ianto Jones. You’re like one. I miss everything.  
  
I hate that I can’t leave the Rift because if something bad happened to one of the others I know you’d never forgive yourself. You’d see it as your fault that I wasn’t here to protect them. You know that if I could, I would visit you even if it’s just for a day. But it’s just not safe for me to be so far away.  
  
I haven’t forgotten about Canary Wharf, Ianto. How can I forget about something that has you waking up, screaming in terror in the middle of the night? I haven’t said anything to you about it because they’re your memories; you shouldn’t have to relive them during the day as well as at night if you don’t want.  
  
I want you back here in Cardiff, curled up with me in bed, more than anything.   
  
Tell me truthfully, Ianto, do you want me to bring you back home now?  
  
Missing you always  
  
Jack


	7. Chapter 7

To: jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk  
From: ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk  
Subject: You're supposed to forget everything I say when I'm drunk  
  
Jack,  
  
I've been trying to write this email for half an hour. I hope you appreciate that I'm cutting into archival time for you. There's a stack of finance reports from 1949 that need to be moved into the correct room and filed, but instead I'm sitting with the laptop trying not to make even more of a fool out of myself.  
  
I never meant to imply that you'd forgotten. I know you haven't; you don't forget anything. It's simply difficult when there's so many reminders here of the hundreds of Torchwood employees who have died over the years – including the reports filed following Canary Wharf.  
  
Please tell me you're sleeping at least a little? Believe it or not, I worry. Also, please try  _not_  to die too much. Tosh says your coat is looking a little worse for wear. You've got the number of the tailor I use? Oh, and while I remember, you are feeding Myfanwy, aren't you?   
  
You're perfectly right, by the way. Of course I would blame myself if you visited and something happened. That doesn't mean, however, that I  _like_  that fact. I refuse to leave a job half-done, which is what this is so far. I am making progress, slowly. And of course there's nothing to stop me returning for a weekend, only...  
  
Well, if you're being a 'sap', I might as well be. If I came back for a weekend, I'm not sure I'd be able to leave again. Besides, Owen would be merciless about my inability to be away for too long.   
  
It's only another six weeks or so, and I'm sure you'll welcome me back with suitable enthusiasm. Although I'll be back in suits when I come back; here I'm spending my time in casual clothes. You like this particular pair of jeans, I seem to recall.   
  
I miss you. There, I said it and I'm perfectly sober (if a little sore). Aren't you proud of your backwards little 21st century lover?  
  
And now I really must get back to work.  
  
But I am, you know. Yours.  
  
Ianto  
  
P.S. Could you go by my flat and pick up any post? There shouldn't be anything interesting, and I  _know_  you have a key.  
  
~  
  
To: ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk  
From: jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk  
Subject: Now I know why I don’t use public transport  
  
Ianto,  
  
Before you go mad with me, just hear me out, okay?  
  
Yes, you read that right. I’m currently sitting in the first class section – can you imagine me in economy? – of a train heading toward Scotland.   
  
I know I said I couldn’t get away from Cardiff because it was too dangerous, but I spoke to a friend at UNIT and she agreed to send a small team to the Hub to help Tosh, Owen and Gwen.  
  
I can’t stand the thought of you being up there on your own anymore, Ianto. I don’t know how long I can stay, I have three days maximum. But hopefully that’ll be enough time to remind you exactly how much you mean to me.  
  
See you soon (and don’t kill me too painfully).  
  
Jack  
  
P.S. I’ve got your post and I’m bringing it with me. Since when do you subscribe to Woman’s Own?


	8. Chapter 8

To: jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk  
From: ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk  
Subject: You idiot  
  
Jack, you're an utter idiot and we'll both beat ourselves up if anything happens in Cardiff while you're gone.  
  
That said, thank you. And I'd better make a trip to the local supermarket and stock up, I think all I've got in is some rather wilted lettuce. Yes, I'll get lots of vegetables, and yes I've been eating a balanced diet. Like you can talk, Mister I-can-live-on-takeaway-alone.  
  
Since you've neglected to tell me when you're due at the station, you can get a taxi to the House, and wait if I'm not back yet.  
  
Ianto  
  
~  
  
To: ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk  
From: jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk  
Subject: That was a close one  
  
Ianto,  
  
Only just made it on the train before they closed the doors. We really shouldn’t have stayed that extra half an hour in bed. Not that I’m complaining. Far from it, actually. Even if sitting all the way back to Cardiff is going to be uncomfortable.  
  
I’ve spoken to Tosh and nothing major happened in Cardiff while I was gone. Just a few stray Weevil’s, but nothing worth losing sleep over.  
  
I know you’ve lost three days worth of archiving and I don’t care what you say, you’re not staying longer to make up for lost time.   
  
But it was worth it though, wasn’t it?  
  
Missing you already  
  
Jack  
  
P.S. Can you see one of my cufflinks? I can only find one.


	9. Chapter 9

To: jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk  
From: ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk  
Subject: Definitely worth it  
  
Jack,  
  
Three days won't make a big difference. I can work a little later in the evenings – it's not as if there's anything to distract me from it now!  
  
As for your cuff link, it might be in the mess you left my bed in, but I'll tell you once I get a chance to change the sheets. If not, there should be a package waiting for you back at the Hub.  
  
By the way, you left the gloves from your uniform here. It might not need saying again, but I  _do_  like a man in uniform. It was...very thoughtful of you to pack it. I'm sure I'll find some use for the gloves while I'm still here. Tonight, for example, when I'm in bed, missing you. Wishing it was your hands on me instead of my own, or better still your mouth.  
  
On the subject of uniforms, I'll remind you once again to take your greatcoat to the tailor. It needs a bloody good seeing to. Just because I'm not there to take care of these things doesn't mean you can get away without doing them.   
  
By the way, you owe me a new t-shirt.  
  
Always,  
  
Ianto  
  
~  
  
To: ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk  
From: jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk  
Subject: Teasing is mean, Mr Jones  
  
Ianto,  
  
God, the mental images you just gave me. On a train as well. That was pure evil. I had to rush to the bathroom before I did something that would get me arrested.  
  
I thought you’d get a kick out of that uniform. I’ll develop those pictures we took, ready for your viewing pleasure when you get back. Maybe we can recreate the pictures?  
  
Okay, if I’m not careful I’ll need the bathroom again pretty soon.  
  
Damn you, just come home now, okay?  
  
Jack  
  
P.S. Your T-shirt was not my fault. It was annoying and in my way. But yes, I will buy you another one. I’ll put it on the expense account.


	10. Chapter 10

To: jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk  
From: ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk  
Subject: Jack Harkness, don't even think about putting it on expenses  
  
Jack,  
  
If I see anything even remotely like clothing appearing on your expenses form for this quarter, we will be having words. Just bear that in mind.  
  
I hope you didn't scandalise anyone on the train. I would really rather you didn't get arrested for public indecency again, it does make it difficult to maintain good relations with the police – as Gwen told you last time.  
  
I found that cuff link, by the way, and I don't want to know how it ended up in the fridge. Nor do I want to know what my favourite tie was doing there – the tie I was sure I'd left in Cardiff.   
  
And no, I won't come back just because you're horny. You have two hands, yes? Although it might be an interesting exercise in restraint. By my estimate, I have at least another five weeks' worth of work here. Could you possibly last even half that time without orgasm? No, forget that, it would be much more interesting to ask the same question if I were actually home with you, in plain view.  
  
Jack...thank you for coming up. I hadn't realised how lonely I'd got and how...well, depressed, I suppose.   
  
Make sure to give Myfanwy some chocolate from me. Don't say I spoil her; she's the last of her kind, she deserves a treat now and then.  
  
Always,  
  
Ianto  
  
P.S. I notice you've said nothing about the coat. Be warned: I still have those photographs of you with sideburns. I am not above blackmail. Take it to the tailor.  
  
~  
  
To: ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk  
From: jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk  
Subject: I am all tailored up  
  
Ianto,  
  
I took my coat to the tailor as ordered. He seemed irritated at having to look at it again, but I think he was glad to put a face to the wearer of the coat. It made me realise just how much you do for me. Thank you.  
  
I look as dashing as ever now.   
  
I’ve only been arrested once! Well once in the past thirty years and the last time wasn’t my fault. I am completely innocent of all charges.  
  
Even I’m not entirely sure how they ended up in the fridge. Maybe they were in my hand when I was looking for the whipped cream? Can you blame me for being so distracted I forgot about them?  
  
My hands aren’t as skilled as yours. I love the way your fingers feel. You can touch me so lightly and it still makes me as hard as a rock. I would say I can last that long without having an orgasm, but you’d hold me to it and really don’t think I could.  
  
If I’d known how much you being up there alone was affecting you I never would have sent you by yourself. I would have sent Tosh with you or something. I’m glad I managed to make you feel better. I suppose I hadn’t realised how much I was missing you until I got to Torchwood House and saw you, kissed you, for the first time in weeks.  
  
I gave Myfanwy the biggest bar of dark chocolate I could find – she didn’t try eat me!!! – and she seemed very satisfied. Although, I think she might start expecting chocolate on a regular basis now. Sorry.  
  
I love you, Ianto.  
  
Jack


	11. Chapter 11

To: jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk  
From: ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk  
Subject: Re: I am all tailored up  
  
Jack,  
  
Don't be ridiculous, from what Tosh says being one man down is making things difficult enough. Having two of us gone for three months would have been unworkable.   
  
And yes, Mr Davis does get rather irritated at the frequency at which he has to repair your coat. Be glad I don't have to find a different tailor, however – he was a good friend of my father's, and if it weren't for that, he'd have given up on the coat long ago, I suspect.  
  
Of course Myfanwy didn't try to eat you, you weren't covered in sauce – or at least I presume not. She is very well trained for a pterosaur.   
  
Your answer about the tie, by the way, is entirely unsatisfactory. On reflection, I'm absolutely positive I left it at home. In my flat, in my wardrobe. I only brought three ties with me, and that wasn't one of them.   
  
I've found a group of artefacts with a rather peculiar script on that don't match any records. I've sent photographs to Tosh, but you might want to take a look. One of them looks similar to the Dalek guns in the armoury. And yes of course I know those guns are of Dalek manufacture.  
  
Ianto  
  
~  
  
To: ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk  
From: jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk  
Subject: The Hub is very serene at 4am  
  
Ianto,  
  
Yes, it’s four am. I can’t sleep. I rarely can when you aren’t here. Too many bad dreams and memories surface in the dark when I’m alone.  
  
The tie is my favourite one. I took it up there with me because I think you look hot wearing it; just it. But, as always, when I’m around you all my plans seem to go out of the window and I just  _have_  to touch you as soon as possible, so I forgot.  
  
What better way to fight the enemy than with their own weapons? That sounded so ‘Torchwood’ of me, but it’s true. As much as I hate to admit it, not all alien species can be saved and sometimes only their own technology will work to eliminate them.  
  
Night,  
  
Jack


	12. Chapter 12

To: jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk  
From: ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk  
From: I'm sorry, alright?  
  
Jack,  
  
You surprised me, I didn't know what to say, so I...okay, I ignored you. What you said. I didn't mean to hurt you, I just didn't know how to respond.  
  
You've never said anything before. And I know you think I pick up on everything you don't say, but I don't. Clearly. Despite what I like to let Owen believe, I don't know everything.   
  
You confuse the hell out of me, Jack. We've been on dates since you came back, but I guess I thought...I don't know what I thought.  
  
Please don't be angry with me. And please don't just pretend this never happened. I'm an emotionally-retarded idiot, but I don't want that.  
  
I'm still yours, if you still want me.  
  
Ianto  
  
~  
  
From: systems@torchwoodserver.co.uk  
To: ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk  
Subject: Message sending failed  
  
Your message ‘I’m sorry, alright?’ could not be delivered to the following recipients:  
  
jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk  
  
Correct email address and try again, or contact your server


	13. Chapter 13

To: jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk  
From: ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk  
Subject: What's going on?  
  
Jack, I just had an email returned as undeliverable. What's going on? Has something happened?  
  
  
~  
  
From: systems@torchwoodserver.co.uk  
To: ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk  
Subject: Message sending failed  
  
Your message ‘What’s going on?’ could not be delivered to the following recipients:  
  
jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk  
  
Correct email address and try again, or contact your server.


	14. Chapter 14

To: jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk  
From: ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk  
Subject: Another message failed  
  
And I can't get through on any of the phones. If I've not heard from any of you within an hour, I'm calling UNIT.   
  
Don't make me have to do that, Jack. Please.  
  
Ianto  
  
~  
  
To: ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk  
From: jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk  
Subject: Back up and running  
  
Ianto,  
  
Please calm down. Don’t call UNIT. Everything is fine now, I swear.  
  
We had a minor, okay major, problem with our internal systems. There was a faulty wire somewhere and it short-circuited the computers and our phones went down as well.   
  
I’m sorry I couldn’t get in touch with you to let you know we’re all okay. But please know that we’re all safe and there’s nothing to worry about.  
  
Sorry for worrying you.  
  
Jack


	15. Chapter 15

To: jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk  
From: ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk  
Subject: There are such things as payphones.  
  
Jack,  
  
Good. Thanks for letting me know. We should sort out some sort of protocol in case something similar happens in the future when one of us is away from the Hub and can't make contact. I'm sure Tosh could help you with that.  
  
Ianto  
  
~  
  
To: ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk  
From: jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk  
Subject: I know and I’m sorry for not thinking of them  
  
Ianto,   
  
I really am sorry for worrying you, you know? I would never put you through that much worry on purpose; you know that.  
  
And as for the whole payphone thing, in retrospect they seem like the most obvious thing, but at the time we were too focused on trying to restore the systems that nothing else came to mind. Forgive us? Forgive me?  
  
Are you nearly done there?  
  
I love you,  
  
Jack


	16. Chapter 16

To: jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk  
From: ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk  
Subject: Re: I know and I'm sorry for not thinking of them  
  
Jack,  
  
I forgave you for leaving. I think I can manage to forgive you for being out of contact for a day. But we really do need a plan in place for if a similar situation arises in the future.   
  
I have another four weeks' work to do here, but I am making steady progress. The House is looking more organised. I  _strongly_  suggest you and Archie think about hiring a full-time archivist for this place though – someone with more competence than the last few would make sure it wouldn't be necessary for me to return in the near future. I'm sure you'll agree with that sentiment, if nothing else.  
  
I hope Tosh isn't too stressed about the system errors. You might pick up some of her favourite pastries – the strawberry tartlets from the deli on St Mary's Street, by the station? You can get your chocolate croissants at the same place. If you ask for Ianto Jones' regular order, they'll have the right pastries for everyone.  
  
Ianto  
  
~  
  
To: Ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk  
From: jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk  
Subject: Have I done something to offend you?  
  
Ianto,  
  
I don’t get it.  
  
Before I left with the Doctor you seemed so eager to make things official between us; to have something more than just casual office sex. I know we haven’t been on that many dates since I got back, but I thought we were getting somewhere.  
  
Every time I’ve told you that I love you, you’ve either changed the subject or glossed over that fact completely.  
  
You know I’m not the type of person to get jealous or expect you to love me in return, but I do want to know where we stand.  
  
I thought things were finally getting serious between us, but maybe I was wrong.  
  
Jack  
  
P.S. Tosh loved the pastries. Thank you.


	17. Chapter 17

  
  
  
To: jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk  
From: ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk  
Subject: I'm sorry  
  
Jack,  
  
Lisa used to say I possess the emotional intellect of a slug, and that was an insult to the slugs. But it's true.  
  
You are the most confusing person I've ever met, Jack, and quite honestly? You scared me when you said...what you said. And no, that's not about you. It's about me.   
  
You're right. Before you left, I wanted more. But you did leave – and I have forgiven you for that, I understand why you needed to go. That doesn't mean it didn't change things. I changed, and you did too. I love spending time with you, I love going out on dates or staying in or whatever.   
  
But I didn't know. A few weeks ago, before you came up here, you said I'm good at picking up on what you don't say. But clearly I'm not that good. I didn't know you felt...  
  
I thought...I don't know what I thought. But I never thought you might love me. I always thought there was someone else, that you were just...I don't know.  
  
I realise this probably makes absolutely no sense. It doesn't make much more sense to me.  
  
I miss you.  
  
Ianto  
  
  
~  
  
To: ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk  
From: jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk  
Subject: Re: I’m sorry  
  
God, Ianto,  
  
I’m such an insensitive idiot. I didn’t mean to scare you; I was just trying to be honest. I thought that ‘love’ was where we were; I know that’s where I am.  
  
You know the time I spent with the Doctor was longer for me than it was for you. I don’t know, maybe because I’d had that extra time to come to terms with my feelings for you, it’s easier for me to say the words.  
  
There has never been anyone else, Ianto. Sure, I flirt with… everyone and joke around about monogamy being a thing of the past in the 51st century. But since I got back to Cardiff, there’s only been you.   
  
Please don’t feel like you need to rush to return my feelings. Your reluctance to believe me makes sense, but I’ll prove how much you mean to me, Ianto Jones.   
  
I promise.  
  
Jack


	18. Chapter 18

To: [jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk  
](mailto:jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk)From: [ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk](mailto:ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk)  
Subject: Whoever said nothing ever happens in Scotland? 

Jack,

I'm sorry I didn't reply earlier; there was a minor incident with a Hoix in the village. Don't worry, it's dealt with. UNIT responded very quickly, and nobody else got hurt.

I don't disbelieve you, not exactly. But as I said – and I'm not ashamed to admit it – I'm scared about what this means. What we are. I could very easily become too used to you, Jack. To you loving me.

I meant to write more, but I'm due more painkillers and then I'd better get back to work. I'm behind now, thanks to that Hoix and the red tape UNIT insist on.

Always,

Ianto

P.S. I don't suppose there's any chance of Owen sending up some of those blue pills?

~

To: [ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk  
](mailto:ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk)From: [jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk](mailto:jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk)  
Subject: Screw Owen, I’m coming up myself 

Ianto,

An incident with a Hoix is not ‘minor’ when you ask if Owen has any of the blue pills. You haven’t had to use them since the Beacons. Ianto, tell me the truth about how bad you’re hurt, otherwise I’m withdrawing your assignment and bringing you home right now.

Why are you afraid of me loving you? You’re afraid of me hurting you again, aren’t you?

I know I can’t promise you forever (even though we both know I have it), because I might need to go away again. But I promised you that I would only leave again if there was no other option and I would never leave without saying goodbye again.

Don’t worry about work. I’ve been in touch with Archie and we’re going to find someone who’s capable enough to handle those archives and keep them almost up to Ianto Jones’ standard.

Please don’t keep me worrying too long,

Jack

P.S. The pills are on their way. Owen says if the pain is still bad in a few days, he putting you on medical leave, whether you like it or not. Be glad I haven’t told Tosh you’re hurt.


	19. Chapter 19

To: [jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk](mailto:jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk)  
From: [ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk](mailto:ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk)  
Subject: I'm a big boy, Jack

 Jack,

 I suspect your mother hen impression is funnier in person, but it made me smile anyway. I'm fine, just a bit sore. It's nothing I can't handle, and  _nothing_  that would stop me working. I've filed a report, you should have it by now, and I know UNIT were going to contact you because I was involved. 

May I suggest that since neither you nor Archie know the slightest thing about proper archiving, that I be given the opportunity to vet the candidates? The last thing I want is to have to come back up here in six months because this place has got into a state again. I've never known time pass so slowly. Still, I'll be back in three weeks.

I'm not afraid you're going to hurt me, Jack. I'm afraid of myself. If you remember, I have a tendency to go to extremes for the people I love.

As for forever, I never asked for that. If anything shouldn't I be the one worrying about that? Someday – probably within the next few years – you will have to bury me, Jack. You'll put me into cold storage like everyone else. Like Suzie, like Lisa, like Alex. 

 Tell Owen I'm fine, and that he's being sent the medical report by Dr Ferguson, who treated me. And please  _please_  don't tell Tosh, I don't want her worrying. She's had a tough time lately.

 Always,

 Ianto

 ~

To: [ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk](mailto:ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk)  
From: [jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk](mailto:jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk)  
Subject: Re: I’m sorry  
  
Ianto,

It’s not an impression of a mother hen. It’s a concerned lover. Am I not allowed to be worried about you when you get hurt?

You’re right, it makes more sense for you to be involved in the selection process. But we’re doing the searching from Cardiff; you’ve already been away for too long. I’m having withdrawal symptoms. 

How deeply you love people doesn’t worry me, Ianto. It makes me love you even more, if that’s possible.

Do you think that if you try to ignore how I feel about you – and, hopefully, you feel about me – it’ll make your death less painful for me? Yes, you’re right, one day I’m going to lose you and I’m not stupid enough to think that I’m not; this is Torchwood, none of you are safe. But if I thought I even had a chance of persuading you to leave Torchwood – to keep you safe – I would. But I know you would never leave, even if it was for your own safety.

Don’t you think that we should make the most of now? Especially given how little time we might have left?

I haven’t told Tosh anything, don’t worry. You’re right; she doesn’t need the extra worry. She already has far too much on her mind as it is.

I hope you’re feeling better (and don’t try to feed me any lines about you feeling wonderful).

Love,

Jack


	20. Chapter 20

To: [jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk](mailto:jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk)  
From: [ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk](mailto:ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk)  
Subject: Withdrawal implies addiction

  
Jack,

Of course we're doing the selection from Cardiff. I cannot  _wait_  to get back to my own flat, with my own bed (without a lumpy mattress) and my own things, and my own  _job_. If you ever tell Owen that I've missed them all, him included, I'll castrate you. No, wait, that would be a punishment for me as well. I'd say I'd tie you down and have my wicked way with you, but that would be a punishment for neither of us.

Besides, don't think I haven't noticed that you're not as keen on restraints as you used to be. One of these days, you'll tell me what happened when you were away.

No, I'm not asking. 

Maybe you're not worried about how deeply I love you, but I am. Last time I felt anything remotely like this, I caused the death of two people and I betrayed the team. I'd like to think I've learned from that, but all I know is that I would do anything for you. I shot Owen because I was following your orders. I would do it again in a heartbeat. Anything you asked – except leaving Torchwood. The only way that's going to happen is with Retcon or a bullet to the head.

It was a mother hen impression, Jack. I know these things. I have a mother who reacts in the exact same way. But yes, you're allowed to worry – so long as you don't let it stop me doing my job. You've had the report by now, yes? So you know that it really wasn't that serious.

Although it does make typing a little difficult. 

I won't say I feel marvellous; honestly, the only time I've felt marvellous recently was when you were here, barely letting me out of sight and reach. 

I've booked my train ticket back, by the way. Nineteen days, and the train will (hopefully) arrive in Cardiff at 5.26pm. I'm sure I've got more baggage than I brought with me...ah well, it'll all fit in the taxi.

Always,

Ianto

~ 

To: [ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk](mailto:ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk)  
From: [jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk](mailto:jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk)  
Subject: I am addicted, and not just to your coffee…

Ianto,

Yes, you know you couldn’t castrate me. You know you love my body too much to do that! I’ll be glad to have you home as well, but that’s a given. I’m looking forward to sleeping in your own bed as well (or even just sleeping in general).

I’m not going to rush you into saying anything you’re not ready to say. I’m not like that; you know I’m not. I just… don’t like keeping my own feelings inside; I’ve done that for too long now.

If it were up to me, I would never let you out of my sight. I like looking at you. But that would get inconvenient and, I suspect, you find it annoying.

Since it’s been two days since your email, we’re now at seventeen days and counting until you’re back. And, no, I don’t have a calendar on the wall to mark of the days.

Yours,

Jack 

P.S. Don’t be stupid. You’re not getting a taxi back. I will be waiting outside the train station when you get back.


	21. Chapter 21

To: [jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk](mailto:jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk)  
From: [ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk](mailto:ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk)  
Subject: Sixteen days

 Jack,

 It would get very irritating if I were never out of your sight. But I don't find it annoying; I suppose I just don't always understand what you want to look at.

 You keep mentioning that you've not slept. Please tell me you have got some? I know you don't need much, I know you have nightmares, but even you can't function without some sleep. If you can't sleep in the Hub, go to my flat. Maybe you'll sleep better there? 

 I'm not worried, I'm being selfish. Can't have you too exhausted when I get back, can I? You'd be good for nothing. And I have plans.

 I'm winding up my work here. Just one more room to sort through, and it's a small one. Mostly it's odd bits and pieces – but I've come across some absolutely fascinating things. The original blueprints for the Hub (our copy was apparently lost years back), and a receipt for a military-issue greatcoat from 1941. I could spend years here looking through all this, doing research, and not get bored.

 But I might miss you, and I'm already dreading the state of the Hub – I don't think you'd be able to do without me if I stayed away longer.

 Actually, my earlier suggestion of you using my bed? I insist. I like the thought of you sleeping in my bed even when I'm not there, stretched out naked on my sheets. I can picture it. You touching yourself, thumb rubbing across your cock, teasing yourself. Wishing I was there, I hope. 

 I'm not asking that you stop expressing your feelings, Jack – I would  _never_  ask you to change that, it's part of who you are. I just need you to give me time. You'll point out that you've got nothing but time, but perhaps I mean patience instead. You're not always a patient man, Jack Harkness.

 But then neither am I. Your non-existent calendar is matched by one that doesn't exist on my wall here.

 Always,

 Ianto

 P.S. I have every confidence that you believe you'll be waiting for me outside the train station. I do not, however, have any confidence in the Rift or the Weevils. I'll get a taxi.

 

~ 

To: [ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk](mailto:ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk)  
From: [jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk](mailto:jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk)  
Subject: I love your suggestions

 Ianto,

 You have the best ideas. I did what you suggested and went to your apartment. Your bed is still one of the comfiest I’ve ever slept in. I managed to get an entire night – well four hours – of sleep last night. 

 And, yes, I wore myself out before I managed to sleep. The smell of you on the pillows was enough to make me hard. It didn’t take much to make me come; but then when you’re on my mind, it rarely does. Of course I was imagining your hands on me. Not just your hands, actually. Your tongue, teeth, cock, everything.

 You don’t see what I do, Ianto Jones. You are the most attractive, beautiful, stunning, gorgeous (I could go on) man I have seen for a  _very_ long time.

 I have no patience when it comes to something I want. And, right now all I want is you. Back home and in bed next to me, on top of me, inside me. But, like I said, I am more than willing to put my patience to the test and give you as much time as you need.

 I don’t care about Weevils and the Rift; I am going to be at that train station. Even if we have to go on a detour between there and your apartment to catch a Weevil, I’m not waiting a moment longer than I have to before I see you again.

 Love, 

 Jack


	22. Chapter 22

To: [jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk](mailto:jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk)  
From: [ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk](mailto:ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk)  
Subject: Well I am brilliant

Jack,

I hope you changed the sheets. I had to change mine, thinking about you. I didn't have Jack-scented sheets, but I did have those uniform gloves. Remind me to get them dry-cleaned before returning them.

Just under two weeks. I'm finding it rather difficult to concentrate on my work, although as I said it's fascinating, the things I've found and read here. Still, there's just as many unknown files still in our archives. It's just a question of getting time to spend down there; I have this boss, you see. He needs attention day and night, and sometimes even when I do manage to get into the archives, he comes after me.

By the way...you did get that medical report, yes? I just don't want you to blow up when you see me.

I'm not holding my breath about the station, by the way. I appreciate the sentiment, but this  _is_ Cardiff we're talking about.  
  
Yours,

Ianto

~ 

To: [ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk](mailto:ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk)  
From: [jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk](mailto:jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk)  
Subject: Ten days too long if you ask me…

Ianto,

Yes, I did get that medical report. I got Owen to go over it; I needed to know that you really were okay. I doubt you’ll be up for anything too strenuous when you get back. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.

Of course I changed the sheets. They’re so squared off, you’d think I was back in the military. One thing I’ve always known how to do is make a bed properly. I’m good at making them messy again, too.

You remember those photos we took when I visited? I developed them yesterday and they came out really well. You look really good wearing my RAF hat. Just the hat.

You know you love it when I help you in the archives.

 Missing you,

Jack

P.S. Ye of little faith


	23. Chapter 23

To: [jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk](mailto:jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk)  
From: [ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk](mailto:ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk)  
Subject: One week

Jack,

Sorry I didn't reply earlier – I meant to, had the email open half a dozen times, but I keep getting interrupted by the phone. Honestly, I leave Cardiff for three months and my sister decides I've dropped off the face of the planet, UNIT are begging for me to get back to Cardiff, and Tosh becomes a nervous wreck.

If I was ever in doubt of the necessity of my job, I'm not now.

Would you stop by the flat and open a window, pick up the post, that sort of thing? I've asked Tosh to stop by the supermarket towards the end of the week to make sure I've got some food in. I'll be too tired to go when I get back – trains are bad enough without a cast. I'm sure I'll be able to find someone to help me, however. 

Oh, by the way, I had to get a new cast – the old one got wet (I defy anyone to be able to shower without getting a cast wet) – but the local hospital had run out of...well, normal colours. If you say  _one word_  about me having an orange cast on my arm, I will kill you.

Miss you. 

Always,

Ianto

P.S. Help? You? In the archives? Last time you were in there you filed everything under 'H' for 'hot alien' or 'A' for 'annoying alien'! Please tell me you haven't been down there while I've been away?

P.P.S. I really do miss you.

~ 

To: [ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk](mailto:ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk)  
From: [jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk](mailto:jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk)  
Subject: H was for Horny Alien actually…

 Ianto,

 I swear on… whichever holy book you choose that I have not been down in your archives. I may be stupid sometimes, but I don’t want another six weeks of being without your touch.

 Rhiannon is just worried about you. Maybe if you saw her and the kids more often than once every eight months, it would put her mind at rest. Even if it’s just for a few hours on a Sunday afternoon, it’d do you some good to get away from Torchwood. I’m always telling Gwen to keep hold of her life before Torchwood. Do I need to nag you to do the same?

 I’ve been liasing with UNIT; I don’t know why they’d keep pestering you.  
  
Tosh misses you almost as much as I do. Almost. Maybe you two should go out when you get back. I can make a reservation for you?

Can’t I at least have a chuckle about the cast? Please? Why didn’t you get a pink one? Pink suits you. Oh, can I sign it? I promise I won’t draw rude pictures.

Missing you like crazy,

Jack

P.S. Did I mention I missed you too?


	24. Chapter 24

To: [jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk](mailto:jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk)  
From: [ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk](mailto:ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk)  
Subject: Four days

 Jack, 

I know you just say it because you care, but don't. I see Rhiannon as much as I can handle. I love her and the kids, but they expect me to be someone I'm not. They expect me to be the same kid that went off to London three years ago, and I'm not. I call her, and my mother, at least three times a month. Don't ask me to do more than that.

UNIT are calling me precisely  _because_  you've been liasing with them. Next time I'm away, I think I'll brief Gwen on how to deal with UNIT. I don't think they're on speaking terms with you anymore – and there's no point asking Owen to do it, that's how we ended up going to the bloody Himalayas.

I didn't get a pink cast because all they had left was orange or neon green. Orange was preferably to that green, I can assure you. But perhaps I'll have another 'accident' in the shower and have to go to Cardiff fracture clinic. I'm sure they'll have a nice, plain white. And  _no_  you cannot write on it. Quite apart from the fact that of course you'd write rude things, these new casts are made of a resin material that doesn't make for a good writing surface.

Tosh and I already have a date, thank you. But perhaps you could make other reservations? For us, I mean. 

Did you go by my flat like I asked?

Always,

Ianto

~ 

To: [ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk](mailto:ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk)  
From: [jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk](mailto:jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk)  
Subject: No more accidents, please…

 Ianto,

 Don’t say anything about hurting yourself like that, please. I don’t like to see you in pain and would like to avoid it if possible. And I’m pretty sure you don’t like being in pain. Unless there’s something you’ve been keeping from me…

 Yes, brief Gwen on how to deal with those idiots. If for no other reason than I won’t have to talk to them myself.

 Don’t panic, I’ve been to your apartment and done as you asked. The sheets are clean, the kitchen is clean (yes, I can clean), the apartment has been aired; everything as requested.

 Although, has there always been a cat hanging around in the hallway? She didn’t look like a stray (at least I presume it’s a she; I didn’t check), but she didn’t look too well taken care of either. I didn’t let her into the apartment though. Please don’t tell me she’s yours and I’ve forgotten to feed her or something.

 Not long now,

 Jack

P.S. I’ve made reservations for a couple of days after you get back. I’m not telling you where, it’s a surprise. All you need to do is dress to impress (not that you don’t anyway) and let me show you a good time.


	25. Chapter 25

To: [jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk](mailto:jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk)  
From: [ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk](mailto:ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk)  
Subject: Idiot

Jack,

This is me, rolling my eyes. I was talking about accidentally getting the cast wet so I'd have to get a dry one. I do  _not_  like being in pain – not like this, anyway. Sometimes a little pain can enhance pleasure. 

The cat is called (yes, I know) Captain Jack. He belongs to the block in general, or at least he's been there since I moved in. He's named after Jack Sparrow, in the films? Nominally I think he lives with Ethel, who lives downstairs, but I'm not sure who really takes care of him. Certainly I'm one of the people who feeds him from time to time. 

Really, Jack, do you think I would let you forget to take care of a pet if I had one? I nagged you enough about Myfanwy, didn't I? I'm assuming that you have been feeding her, by the way, since you've not asked what to do with a starving pterosaur.

Two days, and then I'll be home. Don't let me go again, please? I've been better since you visited, but it's been a very lonely three months, and...and I've missed you. Sometimes I just want to hold onto you and not let go.

 Ianto 

 ~

To: [ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk](mailto:ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk)  
From: [jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk](mailto:jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk)  
Subject: Me and Myfanwy have bonded…

Ianto,

Okay, so ‘she’ is actually a ‘he’? Close enough. Is this Captain Jack good looking? Why have I never heard of him? What films? You need to show me. I need to see if he is worthy to wear the title of Captain Jack.

Well, I did worry. I thought that maybe with the painkillers it might have skipped your mind. Me and Myfanwy are getting on brilliantly; she even let me pet her yesterday. I think she wants to go flying with me though. But, I draw the line at defying gravity. Once was enough for me, thank you. Even though my dismount was pretty impressive.

 I can’t wait for tomorrow. I feel like counting down the hours. Every time I look at the clock wondering if tomorrow is any closer, only to find out it’s been five minutes since I last looked.

Don’t worry, you’re not going anywhere without me. I’m sure I’ve been terribly cranky these past few weeks – even though Owen says I’m like this normally. But I’m sure the sleep deprivation isn’t helping matters, either. (I am getting better though, I had five hours and fifteen minutes last night. I timed myself with your back-up stopwatch.)

I doubt I’ll sleep much tonight either. I’ll be too excited waiting for you to get back; like a big kid on Christmas Eve night.

See you tomorrow,

Jack 

P.S. If you want to never let me go, I wouldn’t object.


	26. Chapter 26

To: [jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk](mailto:jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk)  
From: [ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk](mailto:ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk)  
Subject: On the train

Jack,

You need to watch films that were made  _after_  1950. Some of them are even good, I assure you. Johnny Depp – surely someone that handsome hasn't escaped your notice? Although if you tell me you've slept with him, you'll be sleeping on the couch tonight.

No, I don't mean that. I've missed you too much. I'm sure a double bed never used to be so cold with only myself in it.

The sight of you flying around that warehouse was rather amusing – despite everything that was going on. That was when I knew it was going to be impossible, you know. When you landed on me and I realised that I was really attracted to you. I felt the worst kind of scum.

I did love Lisa. I think I always will. You know that – you still love all the people you've loved in the past. It's no a secret.

Here's something else that's not a secret, or it shouldn't be.

I love you. I love you, Captain Jack Harkness, and I'm still scared, but there it is. And as long as you want me, I'm not letting go. As long as you want me, I'm yours.

Always.

Ianto

~ 

To: [ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk](mailto:ijones@torchwoodhouse.co.uk)  
From: [jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk](mailto:jharkness@torchwood3.co.uk)  
Subject: I’m pretty sure you can see my smile from where you are

Ianto,

Now, Johnny Depp I do know. He is very hot. And no, I haven’t slept with him. I would say ‘I wish’, but I don’t. There’s only one man I want and he’s on the train back to Cardiff.

Double beds are always too big for one person. That’s why we’re not leaving yours for several hours. 

You’re right. It is possible to love other people. There are different types of love and loving more than one person at once isn’t a bad thing or wrong.

The Rift has been playing nice and there are no Weevil’s so I’m on my way to the train station now. You see? I made a plan and, for once, fate let me stick to it.

I want you for as long as I can have you, Ianto Jones. 

I love you too. So very much.

 See you in a few,

 Jack


End file.
